


Genuine Smile

by Kai_Smol_Trashlord



Category: Blackadder
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Job, Chains, Gay Sex, Handcuffs, M/M, Prison Cell, cell - Freeform, male x male
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3565133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kai_Smol_Trashlord/pseuds/Kai_Smol_Trashlord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richtofen had a plan. A plan that would shock anyone who were to learn of it. <br/>And it involved Flasheart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Genuine Smile

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first and most likely only Blackadder fic so forgive me if anyone is a bit OOC. Kinda surprised that there isn't already fanfiction of Flasheart/Richtofen but ho hum pig's bum.

From the moment Baron Manfred von Richtofen left those two British soldiers in the prison cell, he knew that the person he’d really aimed to capture would arrive shortly. He didn’t know how he knew, he just knew. He was, after all, the best German man. His gut instinct was telling him that soon his target would be here and his gloved palms were tingling with anticipation. He was actually excited about the somewhat legendary squadron commander coming to rescue the two soldiers he’d imprisoned here. That was the only reason he’d given them such a lenient punishment and then fobbed them off, making out that he really did believe that teaching nuns in a convent was a fate worse than death. Originally he’d wanted to have them publicly executed and then send their heads back to the British trenches but then he’d gotten that feeling that the man he really wanted to see would come to their rescue. If those two soldiers were dead before he arrived then he’d leave almost immediately and that would be no fun. No. He wanted to have some fun before letting that blonde bastard go.   
Richtofen smirked at the sound of crashing and British cheering and slowly made his way back towards the cell his latest prisoners had been thrown into. It sounded like his plan had been a success. Of course, he wasn’t surprised. His plans always worked. He was a genius. A brilliant, fantastic, somewhat handsome genius. He tightened his black leather gloves as he strode towards the prison cell, his back straightened with confidence as he neared his destination. Ah yes. He could hear them in there right now. Time to go in there and make sure Flasheart didn’t escape from him this time. He had special plans in mind for the squadron commander.   
“Not so fast, Blackadder,” he spoke as he entered slowly. He felt his coat swishing slightly behind him as he walked over to the other side of the cell. His mood lifting slightly when he saw that Flasheart was, indeed, in the cell too. The very commander he’d wanted to see. Oh, the things he had planned…  
“Ah, and the Lord Flasheart,” he continued. “This is indeed and honour. Finally, the two greatest gentleman fliers in the world meet. Two men of honour, who have jousted together in the cloud-strewn glory of the skies, face to face at last. How often I have rehearsed this moment of destiny in my dreams. The panoply to encapsulate the unspoken nobility of comradeship.” He looked Flasheart over, warmth building in his stomach, but was suddenly blasted to the floor by a bullet. He fell to the cold concrete, landing on his back. He was downright lucky he’d been wearing a bullet-proof vest underneath his uniform otherwise it would have embedded itself into his stomach and he would be dying. He was always prepared for this sort of thing. He remained laying on his back though and pretended to be dead.   
“What a poof! Come on!” Flasheart exclaimed as he led everyone else out of the cell. Richtofen waited a moment before getting up and dusting himself off. Plan A might have failed but Plan B was already in motion. He just needed to wait for Flasheart to return, whether that be through getting captured within the next week or coming back by himself. If the squadron commander didn’t return within the week then he’d go out and get him himself. It was simple. 

***

Six days had passed and Richtofen was just about ready to go out and retrieve Flasheart himself when he was notified over his radio communication system that he’d actually been captured and was now being brought back to the prison cells. Richtofen almost jumped for joy but kept himself composed as he pulled his long leather coat on along with his gloves and dusted himself off. He made his way down the cold, stone corridor and used his mini portable radio to tell them to bring Flasheart to the same cell he’d broken into less than a week ago. The door had been fixed since then and a few little improvements had been added in. He was looking forward to having Flasheart as his prisoner. At last.   
He waited for a good half an hour before the all too familiar booming of Flasheart as he was dragged down the corridor reached his ears. He placed his hands on his hips and watched smugly as the British commander was pushed into the room. The big metal door slammed and the clicking of the lock resounded throughout the cell. The torches on the wall had already been lit and they cast an almost romantic glow over their surroundings. Richtofen prowled predatorily around the blonde Brit, his piercing blue eyes focussed completely on him. Of everything he had planned and had imagined for this moment, he was simply unable to choose what to do first. Maybe he should start by putting one of the new additions to the cell to good use.   
Richtofen pushed Flasheart up against the wall, taking him by surprise, and used the handcuffs attached to the wall to secure him into place so that he wouldn’t be able to escape this time. He chuckled as Flasheart yanked uselessly at his restraints and trailed a gloved finger along the Brit’s jaw line.   
“Oh Flasheart. How you’ve evaded me all this time,” he purred in his German accent as his eyes flickered down to the commander’s lips. They were so close that he could feel the other man’s warmth radiating from him. His gaze shifted up to the Brit’s angry blue eyes and leaned in so that his body was pressed up against the one chained to the wall. Flasheart could deny it all he wanted; the evidence of his enjoyment was pressed up against his own.   
“Get off me you German scumbag!” the commander demanded but he didn’t sound entirely truthful. It was so obvious that he wanted the baron to do anything but get off him but that was ok. He’d break sooner or later. The fliers always tended to if what the other German soldiers had said was anything to go by. Richtofen had waited for this moment ever since their very first encounter in the skies and now his chance had finally arrived.   
“You don’t want me to get off you anymore than I do. You can’t deny what’s pressing against my thigh, Lord Flasheart,” he hummed. He reached a hand between the two of them and palmed Flasheart through his trousers. He smirked when the Brit closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip to hold back a moan. He leaned in and flicked his tongue against the commander’s earlobe, making him gasp and pull on his restraints. The baron was secretly impressed with what he could feel. Flasheart was legendary for his tackle but not once had Richtofen thought that the rumours about how big it was were true. Now, though, he knew that he’d underestimated the Brit. Unless he was wearing padding. It would be just typical if he was wearing padding down there and actually had a very unimpressive length.   
“You realise that we’re both men, don’t you?” the commander panted. Richtofen leaned back, continuing his ministrations with his hand, and looked him in the eye as he spoke.   
“I couldn’t care less,” he purred and saw the other man’s eyes darken with lust. He wasn’t doing a very good job of convincing anyone that he didn’t want this. In fact he wasn’t really putting up any resistance at all. The only denial of wanting this that he’d shown was verbally but he hadn’t tried to pull away so far.   
“I take it you’re like this with all your captives, are you?” the Brit questioned with a raised eyebrow. The baron faked being hurt by the comment and placed a gloved hand over the place on his chest where his heart was.   
“You’re words bruise me, Flasheart,” he wept dramatically before turning serious and keeping his gaze trained on the commander’s face. Flasheart sighed and rolled his eyes.   
“Look, if you’re going to do this then get it over with. I’m not going to be horny for very much longer if you keep sneering at me,” he said. Richtofen didn’t like doing what he was told but he was getting bored of this mindless chitchat now. He wanted to just get down to business and make that cocky commander learn that he wasn’t the one in power here. He wasn’t the one in charge. Flasheart was just a Brit. Richtofen was the best German around. He was the greatest flier mankind had ever known.   
Richtofen dropped to his knees and unzipped Flasheart’s trousers and y fronts, licking his lips subconsciously as the commander’s impressive cock was freed from its confines. He was certainly larger than average, that was for sure. It was almost a shame that he wasn’t going to get the chance to feel it inside him this time around. Maybe another time. The German looked up at the Brit, who was staring down at him with undisguised lust and anticipation, and began to jerk him off slowly. He ran his hand up and down the length at an agonisingly slow pace and made sure his grip was tight in order to create an almost unbearable friction for him. He felt Flasheart shudder against him and sucked on one of his balls as he twisted his hand slightly. Flasheart groaned quietly but his volume increased when Richtofen pushed a finger into his entrance. He thrusted it in and out of him on time with his other hand and his mouth and then moved to suck the head of his cock into his mouth. He flicked his tongue into the slit and chuckled when Flasheart jerked his hips. He bobbed his head in time with his hand and drew in his cheeks as he sucked deeply. He was acting more on instinct than anything else but he knew what he liked himself from past experiences with women so he decided to use the same techniques they did. By the way that Flasheart was groaning and rocking his hips, it seemed like he was doing everything correctly. He wouldn’t have pictured the commander as doing this sort of thing with men but he wasn’t going to complain. He was enjoying himself far too much to let him go now.   
“Stop and stand up,” Flasheart ordered but went ignored by Richtofen. The German simply licked the underside of his cock from the balls to the tip as he inserted a second finger and crooked his fingers slightly so that he could find the prostate easier. If he found that bundle of nerves he’d have Flasheart at his mercy and begging for more. For so long now he’d dreamt of having that commander on his knees and begging for him to let him cum, practically writhing with pleasure at his feet. The baron knew that he’d never get Flasheart to become that submissive but the thought of it turned him on even more than he already was. He could feel his erection pressing against his tight trousers and boxers as he took Flasheart’s cock into his mouth once more, deep-throating him and moaning around him as he palmed himself and fucked the commander with his fingers. He angled the digits differently with each thrust and squeezed his own bulge rhythmically in time with his fingers.   
When Richtofen finally found Flasheart’s prostate his throat was suddenly flooded as the commander came in his mouth with a groan. He took it all, swallowing it and easing his sucking. He removed his fingers and moved back from the Brit. The German licked his lips as he gave the other man a smouldering gaze. He could see the hate on his face but the lust in his eyes was what made it all the sweeter. His plan had gone exactly as he’d wanted it to.   
“You disgust me,” the commander growled. The baron merely shrugged as he stood up and grabbed the commander by the hips. He ground their hips together and both men groaned and whimpered with pleasure. Richtofen trailed a hand delicately up the side of Flasheart’s body before finally tangling a hand in his hair and yanking it.   
“It feels good though, ja?” he purred, letting his German accent show more than usual. He crashed their lips together and, unzipping his fly, kissed him with messy desperation. He tilted his head slightly so that he had more access to Flasheart’s mouth and changed his kissing to open mouthed. The commander did the same and soon their tongues were fighting for dominance over the kiss. Richtofen pulled down his trousers and underwear and gasped into the kiss as the cool air hit his lower regions. He broke the kiss and felt saliva drip down from his swollen lips.   
“If I unlock your handcuffs will you do what I tell you to?” he asked. The Brit just nodded frantically in response. Richtofen took a step back and uncuffed him from the wall. He spun Flasheart around and pulled him up against him so that his back was against the German’s chest. The baron wrapped his arms around him from behind and rocked against his backside. He hadn’t felt more ready for sex in his life and he hadn’t enjoyed sexual activity this much until now. This was the best experience of his life and they’d hardly even done anything yet. When the commander started to move back against him he tilted his head back and mewled in the back of his throat. He couldn’t believe it felt so good.   
“Against the wall. Now,” he ordered into Flasheart’s ear in a low, dominating voice. He pushed the Brit up against the stone cold wall and began to violate his neck with harsh bites. He applied soothing licks to the places he’d bitten every now and again and finally eased himself in. The commander gasped and Richtofen felt him clench around him slightly. The burning friction as he pushed in further was almost enough to make him orgasm right there and then. Despite the fact that the German had prepared him, he was still so deliciously tight. He braced himself by placing his hands on the wall and started to gradually move his hips back and forth in a thrusting motion.   
“Ahhh,” Flasheart groaned, a hint of pain hidden underneath the pleasure. Richtofen picked up his speed a little and gyrated his hips every time he was in as far as he could go. The Brit wriggled his hips slightly so that he was going in further and the German gasped at the pulsating pleasure that travelled through his body.   
“Fuck,” the baron growled as his thrusts became more punishing and he grunted every time he was balls deep inside the commander. Flasheart placed his hands over Richtofen’s on the wall and jerked his hips back in time with the latter’s rhythm.   
“Angle a li- AH! -a little bit more,” he begged. The German obeyed and angled his thrusts upwards, aiming for his prostate. He continued to thrust and when he finally hit the sensitive bundle of nerves he felt Flasheart tighten around him, the latter crying out. Lust coursed through Richtofen’s veins as he sped up and thrusted harder. He hummed as heat began to intensify in his crotch. They moved against each other in sync as they sought release against the cell wall. The baron was so close now. His pleasure was so intense that he needed to release as quickly as possible. He bit Flasheart’s shoulder as he came inside him, pumping his seed into his tight ass. He held the commander in place as he kept cumming and only rocked his hips ever so slightly so that he was rubbing against the Brit’s prostate.   
“Mother of… fuck!” Flasheart exclaimed and shook with orgasm.   
When they were both finally spent, Richtofen pulled out and they both leaned against the wall beside each other as they fought to get their breaths back. The baron could still feel the waves of pleasure washing over him as he breathed in and out as slowly and calmly as possible. Both men looked at each other but there was no emotion there. Richtofen felt nothing. It had purely been fulfilling a need and he could see that it had been the same for Flasheart. It was as if the stare they shared was a silent and mutual agreement that it had been purely sex.   
“You might want to pull up your trousers, ja?” the German suggested as he pulled up his underwear and trousers. The British commander did the same and they both shared a final, passionate kiss before Richtofen called for his guards to take Flasheart away.   
“No-one can know about this. It could cost us everything,” the Brit sighed. The German baron nodded, relieved, and as if on cue the guards arrived. They led Flasheart away and as he watched the commander disappear from his vision, he smiled.   
Genuinely smiled.


End file.
